The Rise of Anakin Skywalker
by Charlie Zebra
Summary: [TRANSLATION] Eight years ago, Anakin Skywalker escaped from Coruscant. Now, no one knows if he's still alive, but there's a high price on the fallen Jedi's head; and as the war rages on, the Empire's and the resistance's forces are quickly depleting. The Jedi Order took the Prophecy's secret to the grave. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan Kenobi refuses to give up hope in his Apprentice…
1. Prologus

**Summary: **_The remnant of the Jedi Order has disappeared; the Empire controls the majority of the galaxy and continues to expand its territory, despite strong resistance from the growing rebel opposition. Eight years ago, Anakin Skywalker escaped from Coruscant after the slaughter of the Jedi in the Temple. Now, no one knows if he's still alive, but the war rages on, and the Empire's and the resistance's forces are quickly depleting. Everyone who knows the truth of Anakin's actions in service to the Empire agrees that Skywalker is responsible for this seemingly endless, costless, and unprofitable war. There are bounty hunters on the fallen Jedi's tail, and the price on his head is high._

_ The Jedi Order took the Prophecy's secret to the grave; nevertheless, Obi-Wan Kenobi remains loyal to the Prophecy, and refuses to give up hope in his Apprentice… _

**Notes**** :** Universe and characters belong to George Lucas. The cover picture belongs to Joran-Belar ( deviantart ).

This is a translation of my own french fiction named "L'Ascension d'Anakin Skywalker". I'm French and it's my first year of English studies, so this is kind of an exercise. I finally managed to find a beta reader, ArwenisWholocked. She is stunningly patient and nice with me, as she did an awesome work right here and I am choosing my words carefully ! I really don't know what I would do without her, so cheers !

It is the first part of In medio stat virtus. This story will contain at least two parts, maybe three. I hope you will enjoy this story as I enjoyed writing it !

**Beta's Note**: Hey, everyone! Arwen here; I'm really excited to be working with Charlie Zebra on this story. This is my first time as a beta reader, and I can't wait to see how this story unfolds! Also, give lots of high fives and kudos to Charlie; English isn't her first language, but her English work is fantastic and is most times easily understood, a trait that can be rare among translated stories. :D Enjoy the story!

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**PART I**  
><strong>THE RISE OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER<strong>

_Prologus_

- Eight years ago -

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Explosions shook the ground everywhere, spewing rubble and fire across the battlefield, the noise deafening amid the screams and shouts of the dying. Corpses of sisters- and brothers-in-arms lay strewn around them, auburn flames reflected in their sightless eyes.

It was the end, he knew. They all knew. The war had been lost for them before it had even begun. Destruction and chaos had usurped peace and order.

Obi-Wan had felt an unsettling fluctuation in the Force just before the slaughter of the Padawans in the Temple. Surrounded by terrible, vivid images of the destruction clearly wrought by Anakin Skywalker's hand, he feared that he had lost his Apprentice. A part of him refused to believe that Anakin could be implicated in this slaughter, refused to believe that Anakin had gone to the Dark Side. But if the horrific crimes had not been committed by Anakin, it could only mean that the young Jedi was dead by now. Nothing else could be the case. And, in spite of Obi-Wan's vows, he secretly would prefer Anakin to have joined the Dark Side than to be dead. And the thought made everything all the more dreadful.

Was Anakin still the true Chosen One? Yes; Obi-Wan was certain of at least that. But if this was true, should the Jedi confront him? Did the Prophecy foresee the destruction of the Chosen One? What if the balance of the galaxy was lost by the death of its hero, Anakin Skywalker?

Obi-Wan was trying to see things clearly without involving his own feelings for Anakin, who had been a friend, brother, and even, at times, like a son to him. These questions demanded intense study and meticulous contemplation. No one considering these issues could allow himself to make the slightest error of judgement. The Prophecy's fulfillment was of critical importance; it was necessary that Anakin fulfil his duty, and neither Obi-Wan nor Yoda was capable of comprehending all of what this duty meant or required.

Despite the importance of the matter, Obi-Wan chose to put it aside, focusing instead on what was becoming his ultimate mission.

"I have to find him," he said, sounding bereaved.

"Obi-Wan…" Yoda started.

"No, Master… I know," Obi-Wan interrupted firmly. He paused, the simple statement accounting for all that he could not say. "I… I must find him, no matter what."

Yoda didn't respond, looking down in a sign of resignation. It was pointless for him to try to convince Master Kenobi for now. Obi-Wan was confused and torn; Yoda could feel through the Force the other Jedi's efforts to keep calm. Nevertheless, Yoda knew Obi-Wan to be wise enough to come to his senses when faced with the reality of what he might have to do. Moreover, it would take far more for General Kenobi to lose faith or hope.

When Yoda spoke again, it was with a low voice, on like that of a parent addressing a child to announce to him a cruel reality. "Face it you must, Obi-Wan," he pronounced. "You will have to—"

Obi-Wan nodded sharply in response, effectively cutting the Master off. _**I know**_. Nevertheless, he would find Anakin, dead or alive, and bring back the prodigal son.

He gave Yoda one last look, determined and yet afflicted, before leaving the chamber with a heavy heart.


	2. I - Initium famae

**PART I  
>THE RISE OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER<strong>

_Chapter I: Initium Famae*_

_._

Breela was beginning to wonder if she wasn't wasting her time.

For the past few days, the streets of Voss-ka had been swarming with a heterogeneous crowd. There were far more Imperials present than usual. Breela had needed to be extremely careful. Admittedly, she had gone completely incognito, and her face was better known throughout the Republic than the Empire; but she soon saw that the sudden action had lured several bounty hunters, looters, and black market dealers who could identify her despite her disguises. Breela had even recognized a few members of the Black Sun, an old criminal organization.

One thing was for sure—the Imperials weren't there to recruit anyone for the Empire's army. The Voss people had recently decided to side with the Rebel Alliance. As the war moved forward, even those who were minimally involved needed to make a choice. It was now impossible to claim neutrality with the constant threat of being conquered, enslaved, or bombed out hanging over the citizens' heads.

Actually, there was only one Imperial camp still extant on this planet, operating on the pretext of archaeological excavations. In reality, scientists, archaeologists and equipment never remained here for longer than a week. This was the exact reason why Breela had stuck around for so long: because she knew something suspicious was going on. Boushh, an old partner in the business, had briefed her over drinks one night; she had feigned disinterest to divert any outsiders' attention, merely nodding periodically at Boushh like she would react to a drunk friend's incoherent ramblings. She had kept Boushh's information solely to herself; this time, since her guild didn't know anything about the situation, they wouldn't be able to mess things up again.

Since the guild's resounding failure against those Kai Justiss vermin, Breela had made it a point to execute major missions on her own, relying solely on her hunter's talents to keep her alive, rather than the aid of her fellow assassins. She had, of late, abandoned her Jedi hunt, in spite of the aberrant reward crowning the last of the Jedi's heads. Her personal desire for revenge was more or less appeased upon hearing the rumor that Windu's death had been by the hand of one of his own. _**How ironic**_, she had thought. Anyway, she was unwilling to endanger her life for three Jedi ghosts who could very well be dead already. Even if the profit of her usual rewards never amounted to that of those promised to the Jedi's killers, she was still uninterested.

As it turned out, the new hunt she had started was nothing short of unusual. Her instinct had not deceived her; she had accurately scented business.

At least, that's what she had thought when she had started to follow an Imperial cluster escorted by soldiers. She had kept a safe following distance, asking herself what would need such careful supervision. However, everything unraveled when the group finally penetrated the Voss' sacred temple by gunning down anything and anyone standing in their way.

She was sure she had remained hidden for about half an hour by now, gradually hearing the ceaseless blasterfire grow increasingly distant. Not that she had any taste for diplomacy or harbored any peculiar sympathy for Voss people, but the massacre left her with a bitter taste in her mouth.

When everything finally grew quiet, she waited half an hour more, lying in ambush for those Imperials morons to come out with something, anything. She was getting ready to leave, frustrated and annoyed, when she heard a shrill scream.

Breela jerked to a halt and quickly hid again. From the side of the mountain where she was lying, she needed macrobinoculars to see anything clearly, as the distant temple entrance was only the size of a nail from her vantage point. But from this distance, she was at least keeping herself safe.

She finally saw an Imperial figure fleeing the temple at a furious pace. Breela was vaguely reminded of legendary curses placed on those who violated holy sanctuaries. _**Well then, fine. And good riddance,**_ she thought, smirking unabashedly.

Still crouching among the mountain shrubbery and boulders, she kept watching to see if the Imperial scout was the only survivor. After some time, another figure appeared at the entrance; but it was neither a scout nor a stormtrooper. It was hooded, wrapped in a clear long cloth, and walking with a calm, unhurried step, like it wasn't pursuing the scout who had preceded it.

Suddenly, the scout was airborne. Intrigued, she zoomed in a little more, looking for the source of the Imperial's flight, but saw nothing other than the mysterious shape. Her heart missed a beat when she understood said figure was the cause, even though it was perfectly motionless.

She had only seen Jedi using such power. According to the rumors and legends, only the Jedi and Seth (and she never crossed either's path, thankfully) could control this powerful magic they used to call "the Force". She felt her whole body shiver in face of this wraith and its incredible power. How could this be possible? The last few Jedi had fled from all sectors of the known galaxy years ago.

One of them, the youngest and supposedly the most powerful, was even presumed dead. He was a pariah to the Empire, labeled as the Jedi rebellion's investigator of the Chancellor. But, as rumor had it, the young Jedi betrayed his own, killed Mace Windu in cold blood. No matter the truth of the stories, the price on his head was high, an incredible amount of money that had all the lure of groundbreaking profit.

Breela had no interest or business in anything related to politics, and she had no desire to go back on the promise she'd made to herself to abandon the Jedi hunt. But if it was _**him**_...

She stood gracefully, silently, and pulled her mini Holocam-E droid out of her backpack.

"See that hooded guy down there?" she whispered.

The droid gave a quiet sound of affirmation, nodding.

"Good. Without making any noise, I want you to get as close as possible to him. Broadcast your video feed to my databloc."

The droid zoomed off towards its target. The presumed Jedi had lifted its victim into the air, strangling the scout silently in an ominous show of power, still without making any movement. Breela realized that if that really _**was**_ a Jedi, she ran a high risk of being spotted, even at this distance. She quickly repacked her gear and discreetly hurried off.

She walked a few hours' distance through the mountain, still struggling to accept what she had seen. Adrenaline pushed her steps forward without pause, leading her further and further away from the Voss-ka temple. As the Holocam-E never joined her, she quickly began to realize even more the danger she just escaped. She only stopped when she reached her ship, hidden between two high mountains on a plateau away from any living presence.

She dropped her bag onto the ground and sat, breathing heavily with exhaustion and relief. After her pulse had slowed somewhat, she pulled out her databloc and watched what video her droid had managed to catch.

The image was somewhat fuzzy and distorted, likely catching interference from the energy of the Force. Still, she felt her heart miss a beat again when the droid focused on the figure's visage; she instantly recognized that face from intergalactic and planetary wanted posters, getting a good look at the Jedi's features just before the image blurred.

Swallowing hard, she keyed in a number on her holocommunicator. A man answered her call a few seconds later.

"What is it, Breela?" he demanded a little impatiently. "You just interrupted me in the middle of an important negotiation—"

"Skip it, Karrde!" she interrupted, exhilarated. "Listen; you'll never believe what I'm going to say..."

When she had finished her story, Karrde was gaping at her, utterly dumbfounded.

"I'm going to be rich..." grinned Breela, her imagination running wild with ideas and possibilities.

"Kriff, Breela, you stupid—!" the smuggler exclaimed, stopping himself before he completely lost his temper. "Did you lose your little mind by talking to me on holocom? At best, you would be stabbed in your sleep; in a worst-case scenario, it would end up being _**me**_! Get your ass on Nar Shaada _**now**_! I can't believe it..." he raged.

Karrde hung up, putting a definitive end to the conversation, still astounded by what he had just heard. He suddenly felt more vulnerable with this new information than he had ever felt. If it was true... Well, he wasn't wasting his day. He now made a call in turn.

"Code 7, Bail," he said grimly when his call was picked up.

"Code... 7? You're not serious..."

"I'm dead serious, Senator. Call him immediately. Whatever my price might be, he won't be able to refuse."

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><p><span><strong>Note<strong> : Hi there ! Here is a new chapter, well, the first ! I hope you enjoyed it ! I'll be glad to know what you think about it !

*Starting of a rumor


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